The Perfect Date
by SquirrelISDead0304
Summary: A bowel movement, a dirty privy, two revenge seeking Ra'zac, what could possibly go wrong on the perfect date? This is another one of those delightful crack fics, and as a result I strongly caution readers to think carefully before choosing to read this, as mental scarring will insue. Rated T for a blatant display of immaturity and some bloodshed.


**Disclaimer: I don't own the dragons, the Ra'zac or Arya or Eragon, although I would love to have to Ra'zac: that would be fun XD**

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**The Perfect Date**

It was a day like any other. The sun sat high above happily playing peek-a-boo with a pair of stray nimbus, and the cobble street through which they strolled was illuminated by a soft golden glow.

Eragon turned his head and grinned at the pail hand that rested peacefully in his. Many times Roran had mentioned getting butterflies in his stomach when he first started courting his wife Katrina. Glancing at the woman to whom the hand belonged, his grin widened, and he concluded that the sensation in his stomach was far too painful to be butterflies. No, he felt he had a pair of racoons wrestling in his intestines.

At that moment a loud sound cut the air, followed by a rather unpleasant smell. The love of his life pulled away from him, releasing his hand to so she could stop and raise a perfectly sculpted dark eyebrow at him. "Eragon, what was that?"

Immediately his smile faded replaced by a flush of tomato red, and he hurriedly scanned the buildings around them. A brothel caught his eye. "Excuse me for one minute, I will be right back." As casually as he could, he walked over the brothel, all the while acutely aware of a beautiful pair of green eyes burning the back of his head.

He dashed to the bar "Privy?"

"Over there," the bar tender pointed.

Without even bothering to knock Eragon threw himself into the tiny bathroom, and was immediately met by a powerful stench that rendered his elfin nose with its keen olfactory senses completely numb.

_Well that's not disgusting, _he thought, eyeing a dark yellow puddle on the floor with distain. _I'll just use the ancient language… and hover or something. _He loosened his belt, and lets his pants fall. "Risa."

_This is awkward._ He _was _squatting over a toilet in midair. He couldn't imagine what his position would look like to someone if they were to walk in on him.

_This is awful. The first chance I've had to spend time with Arya since the war ended. Today was supposed to be a day of fun and bonding for us. It was supposed to perfect: I had everything planned out, and then I had to get so nervous being on a date, alone with her, that I end up having a bowel movement! Shade's-blood, she must think I'm a complete moron!_

Growling, he quickly wiped himself and prepared to leave the putrid confines of the privy.

"Arya, I um-I-I am really sorry about that."

The elf princess regarded him quietly. "Are you okay?"

"Yes," he answered with forced casualness. He could feel his face burning, and he wasn't sure, but he thought there was smoke drifting from his ears as well.

After a pause Arya entwined her fingers with his and the butterflies-in his case wrestling racoons-took to flight in his stomach once more.

"Eragon," Arya smiled softly at him. "You never did tell me what we were going to be doing today."

"It's a surprise." She squeezed his hand and he smiled, before grimacing as his intestines tightened. _Oh gods not again…._ "Eragon is something wrong?"

"I think I might be getting ill." He stated. "But it's nothing-"

"Eragon, if you're ill it would be best if we do this another day," she said worriedly. Her pail cool fingers ghosted across his cheek as she checked for a fever. "You don't feel warm, although your face is slightly pink."

His face turned red.

"No, no, no, I'm fine and besides we're almost there." He took her hand, gently pulling her along with. He led her through the throngs of people milling about as they performed their chores. Rounding a corner led her into a narrow street; cobbled and straight like the rest of Teirm's roads.

Arya's hand tightened around his and she stiffened. "Did you see that?" she asked.

"No." He paused following her gaze. "What was it?"

"I don't know…." She too was frozen gazing at a side alley with narrowed eyes. "I thought I saw something flicker, like a shadow moves."

Fingers still entwined they peered in the gloom of the alley they had just passed in front of. "I don't see anything," Eragon frowned. Sighing Arya, loosened her posture, and her fingers fell limp between his once more. "You're right. It was probably my imagination."

Arya stepped forward and lurched back. A knife was quivered in the ground at their feet.

Pulling their hands apart they grasped their swords and glared into the shadowed depths of the alley. A long trailing hiss slithered from the darkness, and slowly a splotch of blackness extricated itself from the surrounding shade. And into the sunny street strode the cloaked visage of a Ra'zac.

Tugging his hood lower against the brightness of the sun, the Ra'zac hissed.

Baffled and terrified, Eragon's mind went blank. Only vaguely was he aware of the cries of startled people as they instinctually blanched and backed away from the cloaked figure picking at his hood.

"I killed you! Roran and I; we killed you! How are you alive?"

Sighing in defeat the Ra'zac lowered his gloved hand from the edge of his hood to regard him with baleful eyes. "It'sss a plot device Shadeslayer, a plot device."

Eragon twitched. It was a spasmodic gesture, but it conveyed his disbelief and panic rather well. The Ra'zac chittered to itself in thought.

"Why are you here Man-eater?"

"To ask why." Eragon quircked an eyebrow disbelievingly and slowly drew Brisingr from its sheath. The Ra'zac too drew his sword. "Why what?"

"Why you felt it necessary to kill our parentsss when they had done nothing to you, why unlike Galbatorix you could not forgive us our tassste for human flesh, why you could so easily sssend our people into oblivion-oh yess I heard about the younglingsss ssslaughtered in the cathedral by your handsss- I know! And I want to know why you refusssed to make a pact with me and why even now, with the errorsss of your ways laid upon the table, you can draw your sssword in preparation to fight!"

"You condemned my sister, my parentsss, and myself to the void, My name is Lazarus and I have come back from the dead to lissst for you the errorsss of your ways… and revenge."

Still baffled by the Ra'zac's impromptu appearance Eragon had no idea what the distraught cloak had been saying, but he knew what revenge meant and he lifted the sword.

The Ra'zac dropped instinctively into a crouch chittering to himself. Then he unleashed a deafening screech, that was answered by another one directly behind them. Before he could react Arya whirled staggering back as she barely managed to block a sword from splitting her brain and the Ra'zac in front of him leaped, preventing him from aiding Arya.

The broad blade of the Ra'zac's sword glanced across his. He couldn't think as he dodged a blow to the side and again as the Ra'zac attempted to perform a lobotomy.

He was the defensive, being pushed toward the edge of the innocent spectators. One of them would get hurt.

Ducking, the sword passed over his head. The Ra'zac hissed. Rolling to the side Eragon gave himself enough time to leap to his feet before being cowed by an onslaught of lethal steel.

A cry made his blood cold. "Arya-AHH!" The sword fell from his deadened fingers and he lurched away from the Ra'zac clutching his lame arm. The Ra'zac uttered a malicious insectile laugh, before lunging at him. The sword wove in a web of steel as he barely dodged.

The Ra'zac hesitated, raising his sword on high before leaping into the air. Eragon drew a knife, knowing the Ra'zac wouldn't be able to stop himself. A horrible squeal of pain accompanied by the crackle of breaking exoskeleton met his ears as the knife slid between the Ra'zac's ribs. Snarling furiously the cloaked monstrosity staggered back.

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Touching its side the Ra'zac gazed at the blue blood coating its finger tips before hissing, "Plot device." He lifted the shadeslayer's blade from the ground. Two swords against a measly little knife? He would win.

In a fury of rage and vengeance he dove back into the fray. Even with the Rider's speed and dexterity the Shadeslayer couldn't block two swords with a dagger. The knife blade snapped and sword blade met shoulder blade in a delicious sounding crunch.

Gasping the rider fell to his knees, blood dribbling from the corner of his shocked mouth.

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Looking up Eragon watched as dark boots enter his blurring vision. He dimly heard a shout of 'Eragon!' Then he heard the sound blood splatter, several horrified screams, a soft thud followed by a heavier one. Something pail with tapering black streamers bounced across the ground between him and the approaching Ra'zac leaving splotches of blood as it passed.

The last thing Eragon saw was the terrified face of Arya staring at him from the ground and darkness took him.

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Lazarus dropped the rider's azure sword with a heavy metallic thud, before lowering his own and putting pressure against his side he felt his sister walk toward him.

Glancing at her he saw the elf's body slung over her shoulder. He moved to gather the Shadeslayer, but a firm grip on his arm stopped him. He looked at his sister. She was breathing hard, and a faint gash was running across the side of her beak. "I'll take him brother. The elf is feather light, and I imagine the Shadeslayer will be much the same."

None of the humans in the crowd moved to stop them as his sister picked up the human rider's body and the elf princess's head. Refusing to move from his spot he waited for her, keeping his eyes on the mute crowd.

Quickly his sister joined him and together they strode into the darkness from whence they came and prepared to feast.

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Some miles away hurtling towards Teirm, two dragons; one emerald and the other sapphire roared and toppled from the sky crashing to earth in a heap of broken spines and crumpled wings.

It was several hours later before either recovered and slowly they staggered to their feet. Injured and unable to heal themselves they plodded toward the city to find their Ancient Language speaking riders, who neither of them seemed capable of mentally contacting. Strange.

Sniffing the air they trudged through the city following their riders' scent trails. At the end of it they discovered two small piles of broken marrowless bones.

_Eragon and Arya. Well so much for the bond between rider and dragon being strong. At least We can be together, now that they can't hold us back. _

Humming in contentment Saphira leaned into the warm side of her chosen mate and in silent agreement bobbed her head.

**The End**

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**Author's Note: I warned you, I warned you in the summary. If this story has made you angry I did tell you it would be bad. You have no one but yourself to blame for reading this. I hope you at least found the beginning enjoyable. Who would imagine a dragon rider farting? Aside from me who has had too much coffee... I might have a problem, hmm….**


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